When you say you have lost that direction,
Sit out in the breeze.
What is captured in a snapshot,
Can never be lost.
If you hunger for the past,
Look into the distance.
Upon returning, you will be greeted in wisdom’s essence,
your clothing left in another room.
The external leaves its paints by the water
And reflects through the prayer body.
© 1986 Sonja J. Phinney
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